Long Splendid Poems
Long Splendid Poems. Below are the most popular long Splendid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Splendid poems by poem length and keyword.
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Dedicated predestination escapades
Celestial especially preresequites
Difiniti extro-skeletons mini+thins
Cherry skoal impeding doom death throes
Throwing caution to the wind Jethro JJ escalations
Remastered Reproductions Catasphore' Confuscious Anthropology
Follow suit swedish clocks Air Force Girlfriends ass is yummy
Catch 22 Suite' 333 Denison Plaza Percision
Company (3) three requesting medicine Life saving relationships
Destiny Finesse enter treapordy
Pages refreshening connections infectionous
Illusional images imagine imagary dashlights splendid
Dish Hughes Net network equipment fist full of diamonds
Death Pool comparisons test tubes paper preparer
Mad is HIM testaments impaired extrocist
Sinclair cupboards cupid's arrows head shots
Dual bowls then Ice bowls Almighty Ones Nice Bowls
Caressa Coretta stop Cara carebears Beonyce' Sexual Extra Productions
Expos editing Nets Superior West
Quikened Fast And Deadly
Ten dear death threats tender years Rascal Flats
Shekels she kills refills Grim The Reaper Friendships
Leap years Chip in^a^dale Spade feel Trumps I'm in the Power
Rim dial Tim-Tim as the sequel
Lethal Weapons Master Friends in the Bleachers
Teror Cherry Teachers teenagers revealing tweeny sacks
making a killing making Tim a killer
While the whole dimness is red and blasting.
With vile gravity longing and blue lightning.
Beyond that is the splendid pop-dotted moon.
My crisis leaves moans in the lack of twist soon.
The dreadful agony of a long-running river.
He'd never borne a comely man who could quiver.
To cut off the stone ribboning toward the sea.
The water aggravation observes the hollow tree.
The river's ache witnessed the stones rebirth.
Witness to every morning wake-up, mirth
When she enters the glorious sunrise haze.
Crimson haywire and thunder-neutered skies.
The creator arranged this future, yet it's blurring.
Until my brain tracks down rest in sacred singing.
Written: November 13, 2021
Your breakfast is really so important
for it starts you off on every single day
many say its the day's most essential food
without it, you're not the same so some say
My usual breakfast for each day
40g of special k in my special bowl
mixed with a banana cut in slices
add some raisins and milk, let's roll!
Of course a nice cup of tea
with milk no sugar to top it off
then you feel ready to face the day
now that's splendid don't you agree?
But on holiday bI like a change
like croissant with butter to spread
along with my favourite raspberry jam
nice and flaky with coffee the right blend
So that's what makes my fab breakfast
enjoying that lovely early morning meal
setting you up for the rest of the day
profiting much to know it's the real deal
11/29/2023
She daydreamed of his body, so strong.
Now was that really so morally wrong?
A man with shining, ripped, physicality
And eyes as inviting, as the green, deep sea.
Recalling their splendid nights together.
Nights absent of any of innocent demeanor.
Unbridled passion, twas a magic hook.
All published one day in a poetry book!
Readers eager to relive vividly their heat?
Ah, their passions, one day shall surely meet!
(composed about eight years ago
moments ago this poem underwent
slight poetic surgical face lift
modifications by this bro)
this spine tingling reaction,
sans flushed testosterone
from heads to toe
sketched out sometime
from ~july or august 2012 or so
and (just now) triggered chain reaction for roe
man tick undulations i.e. wishful desires slow
lee shifting (in seconds flat)
from neutral to overdrive
exceeding speedometer limit maximum
nearly attaining speed of light quo
shunt seeing an aesthetically pleasing chic chick
in the summer of full feminine bloom
envisioning plunging hot rod
into her lubricated derrick
(and yes, young enough
to beget me via coital fling
a splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian),
who doth wanna swing
like a boyish chap
at prime love making time zing,
with thee, whose primary purpose comprised
tutoring my daughter whose deficiency
with language skills warrant
communication exercisesd
born with cognitive developmental delays
in sundry dis guised,
whose academic weakness qualified her since birth -
or soon thereafter meta morph a sized
to receive intervention to allow, enable
and provide her with life skills
even though patience thoroughly utilized
so she can become self reliant as an adult
thus bringing this papa aegis
of said progeny prances carefree like a colt
and via exposure therapy
comfort zones, convince this dadaist dolt
magic touch, sans young women,
(who seem prominent in social service field)
bear witness as thy Punim doth molt
blindsiding actions of tender loving care
these myopic eyes
with hypnotic trance observe flair
ring results conjuring up illusions of grandeur
spurring commendable utterance
of touche...here here
but self consciousness kept gleeful outburst
under lock and key lest detriment comb near
compromising instructional progress,
that could easily dis ap pear
into a sinkhole forsaking requisite basic skills
reinforcement ever since first year
The winter time has had its day,
Was what we all believed,
As signs of spring were everywhere.
But seems we've been deceived.
Evil April brings Arctic blast
Now more snow has arrived.
It seems winter must dominate,
And tell springtime it has to wait.
The snowdrops and the crocuses
Put on a splendid show.
Now we should have the daffodils
But they struggle to grow.
And the tulips expected soon
Are still asleep below.
It seems winter must dominate,
And tell springtime it has to wait.
Why are these seasons so confused?
There surely is a catch.
Last week the moorhen laid her eggs
Now incubates the batch.
But with the snow covering her
What chance have they to hatch?
It seems winter must dominate,
And tell springtime it has to wait.
Watching my grand-children run and play
It makes the mind wander, back to the day
Such a joy to see things as fresh and new
When you could imagine, a splendid view
The joy to smell the scent of fresh mowed hay
Watching my grand-children run and play
Watching birds as they stop, look and fly away
Dream of floating in clouds, on this glorious day
You say it's a waste of time, it won't pay the rent
Or is that our excuse as we increase our debt
Watching my grand-children run and play
It seems the older we get, the faster we stray
We borrowed this land from our grand-children you see
Will we leave children a lush garden or a dead sea
Have we crippled their spirit, with a world in disarray
Watching my grand-children run and play
That Blessed Door
O the rain...the rain...the falling rain
that fell and fell and fell again
keeping you from my door...O my door...that blessed door!
O the sunset...the sunset...the carnelian sunsets
how I long to hold them in my hand...so when you are blue...so blue
so deep dark blue...you can come to me
and I will open my hand so
you can wonder...O the wonder...wide open wonder
Xanthus yellows and amber golds streaming
from my palm...my palm...my humble palm
and so you will become immortal
O if only I could keep you there
...you...only you swathed in light and warmth
safe...and sound...close to me forever
You who I am lost to...the vessel-ed seas
O how I long for the sea...O the sea...the sparkling sea
in its emerald greens and topaz hues
it's passions, powers …a relentless muse
I long to place it in my heart...
my heart...O my a thousand times broken heart
so the pieces can wash away and I can float free
into the wind...O the wind...the wetted whipping winds that billow the sheets hung in my yard
whispering wild and wondrous things to dreaded demons
washing them away with the rain
...the rain...the falling rain that fell and fell and fell again
keeping you from my door...O my door...that blessed door that opened
to your face -one cold crisp morn...
So blessed by God ...O My God...My Gorgeous God!
if only I could hold you in my soul…O my soul …my sodden soul
that I would not get so often lost in my shadows ...O the shadows
my small and tall...wide and slanting shadows and the darkness
...O the darkness...the black coal darkness
that chases me down alleyways of night and telling taunt me under the slivered moon...
O the moon...my beautiful mindful midnight moon...my crescent and my full moon
O my love ...my love....my eternal love
if only I could sprinkle you like confetti...upon the earth
and every life
O life...the very thing life...the breathe that enters that which wasn't and so then is till cradled in death
Death....O death...O damned-able death!
if only you were not so draped in confession that I must pray
I pray...O how I pray that the vastness...the vastness...the great and cosmic-ian vastness beyond is more splendid still than Earth...
Our Earth...our blessed wondrous Earth
perfect hungry sad beaten tarnished dirtied Earth...O MY EARTH
...how I love you!
Our eyes catch for that moment in time
For a split second, so brief, yet magical
She was the centerpiece to all my dreams
Splendid, graceful and beautiful
If only I looked back and followed my heart
But I kept walking down the street, away
I kept thinking of her, her charisma
There were throngs of attractive people walking by
But she was the most beautiful
Off in the distance there's white sand beaches
But she was the most beautiful
I can only imagine she be dead to the world to me
Like all the rest, like the story of my life
I can only imagine, and be a champion at that
But there she was in the windowsill, top shelf
Her carriage stretching towards the filtering sunlight
My incantation lost, I can only imagine
Her suitors
Her pearly whites, so symmetrical, so divine
Her body exuding passion, a floral cup yearning for water
By now, I reached the white sand beaches and felt lost
connie pachecho
10/22/22
"Enthralled by the splendid tapestry of the creator,
in a trance I am charmed by nature’s grandeur"- by Poet
The wisps of cotton clouds float slowly away,
brushing the end-summer cerulean crystal sky.
Beguiled birds bathe in the glint of the blue bay,
in twilight gleam to the tawny nests they all fly,
as autumn arrives gathering colors on its way.
Sunburst horizon’s diaphanous curtain drawn,
splits the surging sunbeam into spectrum of rays,
colors spilled from sky’s palette paint the dawn.
Bowed down blades of cinnamon grass sway
in crisp air on the lap of meadows turning fawn.
They wear the crafted crown of shining topaz dew,
flicker with the flair of morning’s gorgeous glow.
Flanking the cinnabar garden path paved anew,
dry trunks of sepia trees stand on ground fallow,
rustling gilded leaves echo fall’s footfall passing thru’.
The setting sun ignites inferno in the sparkling sky,
makes a collage of vermillion ember blazing bright.
Soaking its crimson radiance I wait with spirit high
for the stars to sprout in the pellucid autumn night,
when moondust-laced tapestry of delight I’ll descry.
______________________
November 7, 2021
Contest : "T" Contest, New Or Old
Sponsor : Constance La France